


Another Pyramid

by AughtPunk



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: A.I.D.A., Almost fell right off the balcony, Also my friend Jeff Brown almost died, Broadway is dangerous yo, Fun fact I saw the orginal cast of AIDA on Broadway, Gen, God I love writing about Robots, I thought it was meh, Musicals, Omnic Crisis, Omnic Racism, Omnic Rights, Post-Omnic Crisis, Pre-Fall of Overwatch, Spoilers for 19th Century Operas, Style Over Substance, Uprising, aida - Freeform, opera - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-02-29 18:23:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18783664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AughtPunk/pseuds/AughtPunk
Summary: During a chance encounter on the battlefield Lynx Seventeen and Mondatta discuss Omnic rights, human nature, and 19th century operas.





	Another Pyramid

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Overlooked Heroes zine, which was delayed but I got the OK to post this. I won't lie, this is possibly one of my favorite pieces.

Overwatch was certainly overt, Lynx Seventeen thought as they walked through the charred remains of the battlefield.

Null Sector’s uprising had gone about as well as Lynx thought it would. Yes, it was impressive that the optimistic terrorist-slash-extremist group had the city within its grasp for over twenty-eight days. Almost as impressive, Lynx noted, as the sheer amount of damage they did against omnic rights as a whole. They were honestly a little happy that Overwatch had stepped in and stopped Null Sector when they did. Pity they had to do it in the most destructive way possible. 

“At least Null Sector only destroyed human things,” Lynx muttered to themself as they stepped around the bodies of the fallen. “But no, Overwatch had to bring the fight to The Meridian. What’s that, Captain-Blonde-Hunk? We need to invade the city? Let’s make sure we trash the only theater in London that lets omnics preform! Sure thing, Miss-Pretty-Angel, be sure to burn down a few of the omnic-welcomed apartments on your way there!”

Lynx’s serpentine path through the battlefield brought them right to the front steps of The Meridian. Their ears lowered like a heartbroken pup at the sight of the old building. The once magnificent front was now peppered with bullet holes and scorch marks. All the windows were broken, the carpeting was still on fire, and there were large craters in the foundation that Lynx guessed was from a large hammer. That’s right, one of the Overwatch heroes had a giant hammer. Overwatch sent in the man with the giant hammer. The one that famously works for Overwatch.

“That confirms our dear world police weren’t planning on covering this up,” said Lynx to no one.

“Indeed. Yet they are noble for taking a stand when no one else would,” replied no one.

Lynx’s gun was in their hands before they fully turned around to face whoever was dumb enough to sneak up on someone while a war was going on. Their systems slowly picked up the stranger in segments. Omnic, basic model, minimum customizations, interface diodes arranged in a diamond pattern, white face plating, gold highlight, regal looking monk clothes --oh fuck it was Tekhartha Mondatta, they were pointing a gun at Tekhartha-fucking-Mondatta FUCK--

“Gotta say, your Holiness, you picked a bad time for a stroll,” Lynx said instead of the long stream of curses racing through their head. 

Mondatta hummed and tilted his head, as if observing a rather curious talking animal instead of an omnic holding a gun. “The same could be said for you. Perhaps you are looking for a reason to use your gun?”

Gun. They were still pointing their gun at a rather famous spiritual leader and one of the few omnics in the world humans respected. Lynx lowered their gun but couldn’t find it in themselves to put it away. Their sensors, now spooked, were overclocking themselves for any other signs of life. Which also meant their ears were doing that bunny-twitch thing Lynx hated. Because this day was just going to be like that. “I’m checking out if any cores can be salvaged from the bodies. Lots of kids joined Null Sector; shame if they all ended up being shipped to the Junkers as scraps just because their programming wasn’t fully-formed.” 

Mondatta let out that musical hum again. Did he do it on purpose? Or was it a loading noise? “Have you been successful?”

“No,” Lynx bitterly admitted. “They’re all hardwired in.”

“A pity,” Mondatta said. “Still, it shows their dedication to the cause. They knew there was no coming back from this battle. If only they fought for their beliefs in a non-violent way. I fear their stand has done more harm than good. Humans are forgiving, yes, but they can also hold a grudge within their hearts for generations at a time. It will take many years to mend these past few days.” 

Lynx didn’t notice that their processors had slowed down until Mondatta’s musings stopped. The nervous tension and panic fueling their scanners was gone. Nothing was left but their own inner machinery whirling silently away. Did the omnic always produce such soothing energy? No wonder omnics and humans alike followed him like a lost puppy. The image of Modatta surrounded by a mob popped their senses back into place. They shook their head in an attempt to remove the static around the edges of their brain. “Wait, wait, why are you wandering around? Shouldn’t you have a few dozen bodyguards trailing you? With guns on me?”

“They and a few Overwatch agents that rescued us may be distracted by my brother, Zenyatta. Who, I must say, is an expert at distracting people.” Mondatta paused, turning fully to take in the carnage which surrounded them. “I wished to be alone with the fallen.”

“Why?”

The word escaped Lynx before they could work out if it was a good idea. The light blue diodes on Mondatta’s faceplate pulsed and Lynx was overwhelmed with the feeling it was not. Mondatta looked away, turning his own sensors to the ruined theater beside them. “Because I am the reason they died.”

Lynx forced out a soft, “They died because they picked a fight they couldn’t win. To be more precise, they were killed by Overwatch, which I’m sure the media is going to love.”

“All because I gave them a reason to fight. A noble reason, yes. But my actions are the reason they have passed into the Iris.” 

Lynx finally put their gun away. “Okay, sure. Let’s say that. But let me point out that you’re also the reason most of us are here instead of being recycled the second we show sentience. And honestly? I’m not into the whole Iris thing. Sounds delusional at best and cult-ish at the worst, uh, your Holiness. But it’s an idea that humans understand. A nice simple concept their squishy brains can sink their claws into. If there’s one thing I’ve learned it’s that humans as a whole love arguing about religion. Even the ones who don’t believe in it! Especially those ones! And now, they argue about the Iris just as much as any other of their Gods or lack thereof. To them it’s just as real as their own beliefs. They’ve gone from asking if Omnics were more alive than their toasters to respecting us. Not all of them, of course, but far more than before you showed up. You’ve, uh, done good.”

Their words trailed off as the reality that they were giving Tekhartha Mondatta a pep talk sunk in. They were not qualified for this. They probably weren’t qualified to be within arm’s reach of the Omnic. Mondatta didn’t respond right away, but the sky blue diodes on his faceplate slowed back down to a steady glow. He turned fully to face the ruined theater beside them. “You were speaking of this theater before, correct? The Meridian?”

“Yes?” Lynx went over their recent recordings. Yup, Talking out loud again. They really had to work on that. 

“Have you ever watched a performance here?”

Lynx’s ears twitched. “Three, four if you count the time I fell asleep during the Ring Cycle. Why?”

Mondatta nodded at one of the signed posters that hung by the front doors. “The Prime Minister wished for us to see the opera while we were here. A.I.D.A., to be exact. I thought it was a bit frivolous but my brother has a weakness for the theater. That being said, I think he was a little disappointed when he found out it was the nineteenth century play and not the musical from many years back. Do you know the story?”

Lynx shook their head, already lost.

“It’s one of the many ancient stories about star-crossed lovers. An ancient warrior of Egypt falls in love with a captured slave, not knowing that she is a princess of the nation they are at war with. She likewise falls in love with him and finds herself torn between her loyalty to her people and her heart. There are complications, as there always are in these stories, and the lovers are faced with a choice: the warrior could help A.I.D.A. and her father escape and face death at the hands of the Pharaoh, or he could bite his tongue and keep A.I.D.A. but allow her father to die.”

“I’m guessing this isn’t one of those happy operas?” Lynx asked. 

“Are there any?” Mondatta asked before continuing. “The play ends with the warrior choosing death in order to save A.I.D.A. and her father. He is happy to save the woman he loves, and he would rather die than live a life without her. But after the final stone of the crypt is sealed A.I.D.A. steps out of the shadows, for she had decided to join her lover in death. The lovers die in each others arms as prayers to the Goddess Isis are sung, wishing them peace in the afterlife. The fact that the theater chose to perform this opera is...remarkable.”

“Is it?” Lynx asked, still a bit lost.

“As you may tell by the name on the poster, they chose to have an Omnic portray the role of A.I.D.A instead of a human. Instead of nation against nation it is now about humans against Omnics and the violence between them. The director chose this love story to reflect how pointless the divide is, and how we all suffer for it in the end. What is curious is that they included the ending from the musical.”

Was Mondatta even talking to them? “Which is?”

“A scene set in modern times, showing the warrior and the princess meeting once more in a new life. My brother said he thought the ending to be hopeful. That the lovers have been given another chance. Myself, I see it as a warning. That the tragedy can and will play out again and again. I pray my brother has the correct understanding of the work.”

Lynx shifted uneasily, their systems annoyed by having to stand still for so long. Good thing the phrase they had been searching for in their database finally popped up. “Opera buffa.”

That caused Mondatta to look their way. “I’m sorry?”

“Opera buffa. Comedic operas. You asked if there were any. I watched one last spring, La Cecchina, which is also about star-crossed lovers but with wacky comedy hijinks instead of tragedy. Everyone ends up married and lives happily-ever-after. It’s considered the first true Italian comedic opera and was extremely popular in its time.”

Mondatta tilted his head once more. “Did you enjoy it?”

“I didn’t fall asleep, so yes.”

There was a pause before Mondatta raised his hand to hide a soft chuckle. “I must admit that my systems were on the edge of shutting down during some of the longer arias. Perhaps in the future I should give comedies a try.”

Lynx’s ears popped straight up as their sensors picked up the sounds of sirens in the distance. “Sure sure, and I’ll watch that sad everyone-dies opera sometime. Or the musical. Anyway, it’s been a pleasure, your Holiness, but it sounds like your ride’s here.” 

Mondatta’s shoulder slumped ever-so-little. “Alas. I have been found. And I assume you do not wish to be around when they arrive?”

“Let’s say I’m not the talking-to-cops type.” Lynx started towards a handy alleyway when Mondatta’s voice caused them to stop. 

“Forgive me, I did not catch your name.”

Lynx wished they didn’t remember that moment. They wished their meeting with Mondatta had been compressed and filed away with the thousands of other pointless interactions they have had with people over the years. But the memory of Mondatta alone on the battlefield, standing tall, surrounded by the dead, and bathed in sunlight remained in their system at the highest quality. A trick of the lense caused Mondatta to appear as if they were wrapped in an otherworldly golden light. With the image was imprinted a single thought that fluttered through Lynx’s mind at the time.

Maybe there is something to the Iris.

The quality of the memory dipped back down to its normal rate as Lynx called back to Mondatta. “Lynx! And don’t forget! Opera buffa!”

If Mondatta replied the words were lost in the deluge of incoming sirens. Lynx didn’t bother to look back as they ran into the alley, eager to put as much distance between them and the dead as they could. 

***

Lynx forgot about the interaction until they didn’t.

The memory only emerged after news of the assassination spread to every corner of the globe. Millions alongside Lynx watched the footage over and over again, unable to tear their eyes away from Mondatta’s last moments in front of The Meridian. There was only so much Lynx could take before turning the news off. When the silence became too much they turned to the internet instead, determined to fulfil their side of the promise.

Later on, a golden statue was built in his honor which shone nearly as bright as Mondatta once did. Lynx visited the statue as many do, but instead of leaving flowers or candles, Lynx left only a single comment behind as an offering.

“I think your interpretation might be right.”

**Author's Note:**

> Follow my [Tumblr](http://aughtpunk.tumblr.com) for more Overwatch shipping! And don't be afraid to drop a line! I'm lonely! 
> 
> Want to know what happened to Cyber Vale? [Click here!](http://aughtpunk.tumblr.com/post/148519005156/hey-wheres-welcome-to-cyber-vale)
> 
> And check out [My Blog](https://aughtpunk.wordpress.com/) for updates and original fiction!


End file.
